


The Weight of This Sad Time

by twoseas



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Getting Together, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, M/M, Minor Violence, Tarsus IV, non graphic descriptions of Tarsus IV, references to Michael Burnham, references to Sybok, references to less than stellar childhood, the threat of a weaponized hypo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-14
Updated: 2018-02-14
Packaged: 2019-03-18 07:34:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,789
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13677150
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twoseas/pseuds/twoseas
Summary: While on shore leave, Jim, Spock, and other members of the Enterprise decide to indulge in the performance of a play. Before the first act can begin, the appearance of a familiar face brings an end to their enjoyment.A mass murderer is captured. A future murderer is stopped. And Spock finds himself expressing his own emotions in an attempt to comfort his captain.





	The Weight of This Sad Time

**Author's Note:**

> I was watching The Original Series on BBC America and "The Conscience of the King" came on. I made a joke about how AOS Kirk would have just phasered Karidian as soon as he realized he was Kodos rather than having an expansive moral debate and looking for enough evidence to prove it. So this came about in a hazy, midnight fueled mania from that joke. It's not exactly how I wanted it to come out, but I am otherwise willing to make it public. 
> 
> Since the AOS crew is younger, I made it so they catch Kodos before Lenore can go full murder daughter. I also included some lines/references from TOS and the title is from King Lear, which seemed fitting since "The Conscience of the King" came from Hamlet. Gotta love that Shakespeare

“Sure you don’t want to come, Spock? I hear they’re some of the best in this part of the quadrant.” 

Spock tilted his head, aware that Jim was watching him carefully, hope in his vibrantly blue eyes. “There is a project of some interest in the Federation labs and my expertise has been requested.”

Shrugging, Jim smiled, small and just on the edge of disappointed. Over the duration of their association, Spock had learned to associate the captain’s smiles with a variety of expressed emotions. This was the smile he always employed when Spock denied an invitation, moments before the captain reiterated his welcome. Which he proceeded to do. “Alright, but if you change your mind, show up. I’d be happy if you could come.”

Nodding his head in acknowledgment, Spock moved in the direction of the labs, his captain’s bright grin and enthusiastic wave following him until he turned the corner. 

 

Several hours later, Spock found the scientists had vastly overestimated the importance of the experiment’s results and Spock was done much sooner than expected. Perfect memory lingering on his captain’s farewell, Spock joined a transport heading towards the city’s open air theater. 

On his arrival at the intended destination, he immediately noticed a collection of the Enterprise’s crew in front of the entrance. All wore their civilian clothing and seemed in good spirits. As short as this shore leave would be, it seemed to be enough time to elevate the crew’s morale. Productivity always went up after a satisfactory shore leave and Spock was looking forward to a more efficiently run ship. 

When Jim caught sight of Spock, his face lit up, eyes half closed with the force of his smile. Spock had come to associate this expression as Jim’s reaction to both his and Doctor McCoy’s sudden appearance, particularly in social situations. 

“Spock! You made it!”

“Indeed. The need for my presence was greatly exaggerated.”

“Basically, they thought they were the shit and you proved them wrong,” Jim laughed. “Come on, I think they’re letting us in. Do you like Shakespeare?”

“I am aware of his works,” Spock admitted. 

“High praise,” Jim raised an amused eyebrow and Spock briefly wondered, in a fit of whimsy, if the captain picked up the expression from him.  

A few other members of the crew greeted Spock as well, including Nyota. He thought to move next to her, though the termination of their romantic relationship and her own clear enjoyment of Yeoman Rand’s company discouraged the thought. Instead he stood at Jim’s side, earning another radiant smile, and Spock came to the logical conclusion that this was where he ought to remain. 

The line moved at a steady rate and soon the large crowd was seated, the more emotive species jittering with anticipation. The crew of the Enterprise was situated well, relatively close to the stage and centered. Jim’s knee moved up and down in quick succession, his fingers tapping at his thigh. Spock watched the movements of his captain’s hands, admiring the flex of his knuckles, the stretch of skin, and the dextrous reaction to nervous energy. 

“I haven’t seen a play in like three years,” Jim told him in a hushed whisper. 

“As we have been in deep space, I am unsurprised.”

Jim met Spock’s gaze with a smirk. “You’re a real smartass.”

“Captain, I am concerned at the extensive illogic in your comment. I am, of course, real as I am in existence. However, your statement may refer to several debates and theorems posited by scholars and philosophers from many civilizations, including those human and Vulcan. As to the term ‘smartass’ I have several logical objections. Need I enumerate them?”

That earned him a series of snickers, Jim covering his mouth to muffle the noise. “I love it when you act all logical just to be snarky. Now shut up, Spock. They’re about to start.”

Hiding his own small smirk, Spock turned his head towards the stage, several members of the esteemed company coming out to introduce the play, its history, and themselves before the play could begin in earnest. After more minor actors introduced themselves and the roles they would play, an attractive young blonde woman approached center stage. 

“I am Lenore Karidian and I shall be playing the role of Cordelia. It is my honor to introduce my father and the leader of the Karidian Company of Players, Anton Karidian, in the title role of King Lear.”

Lenore stepped aside gracefully, hands held out as an older man moved forward. The man was aged, but still strong in his bearing. He looked over the theater with a heavy, imperious gaze. Beside Spock, Jim tensed. 

“Thank you, my dear.” Karidian kissed his daughter’s hand, deep voice echoing through the theater. Jim shot up from his seat. “It is with great delight we’ve come to perform one of Shakespeare’s most famous works-”

The sound of a phaser. 

The drop of a body against the hard stage. 

Screams. 

Spock turned to his captain. Jim’s arm was held out, hand white knuckled around his phaser. 

Barely controlling his own shock and concern, Spock stood as well. “Jim-”

“Call Starfleet, Commander,” came the cold command. “We need to take in a prisoner.”

“Captain!” Nyota stared at the still raised phaser in his hand. “What are you doing?!”

More of the crew realized who the perpetrator of the attack had been, all of them bewildered and unsure of what to do. Spock knew Starfleet’s policy on such behavior, but he refused to comply with them. He trusted Jim and so instead he took out his communicator and did as his captain ordered. 

On stage, Lenore cried out, eyes full of hate as she searched the audience and found Jim. “You! How could you?!”

Security for the theater arrived, later than Spock would expect from a professional service, but Jim stopped them in their tracks with a authoritative glare and stern tone. “I am Captain James Tiberius Kirk of the Starship Enterprise. I am taking that man into Starfleet custody and you will not stop me.”

Spock followed Jim as his captain moved towards the stage, fury radiating from his body, legible in the rigidity of his shoulders and the trembling of his hands. 

At Jim’s approach, Lenore snarled. “You murderer!”

“He’s only stunned,” Jim told her, eyes glacial and sharp. “I doubt he even bruised himself in the fall, unfortunately.”

Tears brimmed at the edges of the woman’s eyes. “There is no mercy in you.”

“I’ve shown him more mercy than he deserves.” 

Jim’s voice shook and Spock stared, amazed at the unrelenting hatred in Jim’s expression and tone. Behind the fire of that hate there was something haunted and full of sorrow, enough to have Spock instinctively reaching for Jim. Controlling himself, Spock moved closer to the captain’s side, eyes darting between Jim, the sobbing woman, and the unconscious form on the stage. 

Behind them, the rest of the Enterprise’s crew pacified the panicked audience, controlled the theater’s security team, and prepared for the arrival of Starfleet’s criminal transport. Like Spock, they trusted their captain’s decisions, even one they did not necessarily understand. “Captain,” Spock spoke softly. “Of what crime is this man charged?”

“Tell me, Spock.” Jim glanced up at Spock, eyes swirling with emotion as he kept his phaser pointed towards the stunned man and his daughter. “What do you know of Kodos the Executioner?”

Before he could answer uniformed members of Starfleet arrived, taking Anton Karidian into custody. Lenore Karidian was taken as well, the young woman attacking the first person to touch her father. 

 

Spock would not describe himself as upset, but as he watched the captain move in front of the cell he could admit to a certain imbalance in his control. Doctor McCoy had been called, most likely by Nyota, and he too watched as Jim moved closer to the glass wall that separated him from the prisoner. A small selection of Starfleet officers and local law enforcement were present and acting as guards. Some maintained the duty with professional neutrality, while others were visibly uncomfortable.

The old man who went under the name Anton Karidian stood as soon as he caught sight of Jim. “Captain Kirk, I presume.”

“Kodos.”

Karidian flinched at the captain’s sharp tone. “A name of a part I played long ago.”

“A part,” Jim sneered. “A part? Thousands dead, Kodos. Dead by your hands before you faked your death and ran away. That is no mere part.”

“What do you want from me, Captain? I am tired, so tired.”

Jim nodded, jaw clenching. “Then I’ll be brief. Are you aware, Kodos, that your daughter has been plotting the murders of the Tarsus Nine?”

The old man visibly shuddered at this, eyes widening as he took a step away from the glass. “No. No! Lenore would never. She is, she’s a good person. She would never. She didn’t know!”

“She’s smart,” Jim acknowledged, pacing. “And thorough. She compiled a substantial list of both public and hacked Federation records. She tracked down every last witness to your crimes. Coincidentally, your company is scheduled to perform on several planets where members of the Tarsus Nine currently reside.”

The older man paled, hand coming to his chest as he stumbled back into his seat. “I-I cannot-”

“Like father, like daughter, I suppose.”

The man who would be Karidian crumpled, hands hiding his face.

Jim turned on his heel, moving away from the cell and towards Spock and McCoy. He sucked in a ragged breath. “You didn’t need to come, Bones.”

“Of course I did.” Doctor McCoy pulled Jim into a rough hug, face contorted in a concerned frown. 

As Jim tucked his face into the doctor’s shoulder, Spock knew he wished to offer the same comfort. Instead he did his duty and hoped that would be enough. “Captain, I have been informed that in addition to the evidence discovered in the quarters of Lenore Karidian, the voiceprint comparison using the only known recording of Kodos has resulted in a 97.3 percent match, more than enough for admission as evidence into his trial. Furthermore, the Federation has issued a summons for the witnesses commonly referred to as the Tarsus Nine for the purpose of further identification. The trial will be held on planet, as this is a Federation planet equipped with the necessary accommodations and personnel for handling a trial against a being accused of mass atrocity. Starfleet has ordered the Enterprise to remain here until the trial’s conclusion as well, no doubt due to your own future involvement in the proceedings.”

Doctor McCoy gave Spock a look clearly meant to offend and censure as Jim pulled away from his embrace. The captain straightened his shirt. “Thank you for letting me know, Commander. Now, I think I’ve cut into your shore leave more than necessary. Dismissed.”

Spock and Doctor McCoy both watched as Jim left them without another word. While the doctor gawked at the retreating form, Spock merely widened his eyes a fraction more. Doctor McCoy turned to Spock, eyebrows rising higher and higher. “Aw hell,” the doctor cursed. “Who’s going after him, you or me?”

“Doctor-” Spock wondered if his distress was visible, the knowing way Doctor McCoy tipped his head at him unsettling. 

“You it is. Take care of him or I’ve got a hypo with your name on it.” Doctor McCoy slapped Spock’s back. “Well, what’re you waiting for? A signed invitation?”

Though Spock could easily withstand the proddings of the doctor, Spock decided it was in his best interests to comply. His captain’s well being was more than enough of a motivation. 

 

Though Jim had only a short head start on Spock, by the time Spock had left the building, his captain was nowhere in sight. However, their time together had given Spock an unusual level of insight into the captain’s habits and preferences. 

Comming the Enterprise’s chief engineer, Spock spoke into his communicator. “Mr. Scott, one to beam up.”

“Aye, Commander!”

As soon as Spock found himself back on the still orbiting Enterprise, he moved with purpose towards the observation deck, sparing only a nod in greeting for his colleagues. 

 

Stepping onto the observation deck, Spock hesitated. For the first time since Doctor McCoy had pushed him out, Spock wondered if perhaps his presence would be unwelcome. However, what he saw seemed cause enough to continue on. 

Jim sat on the floor, eyes distant as he gazed out. His knees were brought to his chest, arms wrapped around them protectively. There was an odd set to the captain’s mouth, one Spock had seen but never enough to categorize the emotions to which it corresponded. Now he was beginning to think it had something to do with sorrow and a deep seated, carefully repressed pain. 

“Captain.”

Jim’s eyes focused and a smile, one of his false reassuring smiles, greeted him. “What can I do for you, Mr. Spock?”

Spock hesitated again, only for a moment, before he moved to join Jim where he sat. “I have come to, as they say, keep you company.”

The laugh this earned was grateful, if a little choked and Spock could admit to himself that his emotions were quickly defeating his control. Something in his stomach clenched as the captain ran a hand over his face. “Thanks, Spock. But you don’t need to. I’m sure you’ve got better things to do.”

“I respectfully disagree,” Spock countered. 

Jim shook his head, smiling one of his disbelieving smiles. They fell quiet and sat there, gazes cast out the observation window for what Spock estimated to be five point three minutes. 

“Captain.” Spock paused. “Jim. Do you wish to discuss what happened?”

Jim shook his head, eyes turning downcast. 

Spock continued more carefully, scrutinizing Jim’s reactions so he could best respond. “Then I wish you to know that should you change your mind, I would be...happy to listen to you.”

The expression of emotion was enough to have Jim whipping his head in Spock’s direction. “Spock…”

“You were on the Tarsus IV colony. I was unaware of this,” Spock whispered, feeling out of his depth yet determined to express his concern. “The events of today...surprised me.”

“I don’t doubt that,” Jim sighed, blinking quickly before turning away from Spock once more. “Hardly anyone knows. We were all kids, which gave us some privacy under Federation law. And I’m a genius, so covering up our names in layers of encryption was easy. I’m almost impressed by Lenore’s ability to uncover them.”

“Jim, were you-”

“One of the Tarsus Nine?” Jim interrupted, a brittle smile on his face. “Yeah.”

Spock did not fill out the silence, recognizing the stubborn jut of Jim’s jaw. Jim had more to say, he was merely figuring out the best way to word it. 

“I didn’t have an astounding childhood,” Jim began, exhaling softly. His gaze bounced around, meeting Spock’s for only a moment before settling on some point in the vicinity of his chest. “My mom couldn’t take me off planet with her, my uncle was a bastard, and my brother left.”

“I was unaware you had a brother.”

“Well, we don’t really talk family, Spock.”

Unable to abide by the sad look on Jim’s face, Spock decided to correct this despite the personal pain. To share with Jim would provide some relief for himself as well as open up such communications between himself and Jim. “I have a half-brother as well as an adopted sister. Sybok was exiled for embracing emotions and encouraging others to do the same and I have not heard from him in many years. Michael is in Starfleet and is a great favorite with my father, though she is human. My father and I did not communicate while I attended the academy, which in turn caused some contention between Michael and myself. We remained in contact, though our correspondence lacked it’s former familiarity. My reconciliation with my father and the destruction of Vulcan-that-was has led to a more...satisfying correspondence.”

Jim stared at Spock, wide eyed and mouth agape. “Holy shit, Spock. I’m so sorry. That sucks.”

“I tell you this in solidarity and understanding. I am aware that my lack of expressiveness has led to many misunderstandings and conflicts, but it is my desire to avoid such complications at the present. And so I must say I trust you with this information and I wish for you to know that there is no subject you should feel reticent in discussing with me.”

As Spock became aware of his emotional rambling, Jim closed his mouth with a snap. “Wow, um, thank you. I-I feel the same way.”

Spock nodded, pleased at Jim’s receptiveness. 

Jim shuffled where he sat and Spock wondered if the position was growing uncomfortable. The floor was, after all, quite hard. “Sam was my best friend when I was little. He made dealing with Frank worth it. But when he got older...he couldn’t handle it anymore. He hated Frank, resented our mom for leaving, our dad for dying, and me for being a reason to stay, I guess. He left and I didn’t handle it so well. I started acting up. After I crashed an antique car and committed a few more crimes, I got sent to Tarsus to live with some relatives.”

“It actually wasn’t bad at first.” Jim paused and Spock nodded in encouragement and to show his own attentiveness. “It was pretty damn good for awhile there. Which made it worse when the crops died and Kodos ordered the deaths of half the population and everyone I knew was on the wrong side of it. I saw things...I did things that no kid should see or do. No person. And seeing Kodos again- hearing his voice...”

When Jim cleared his throat, overcome, Spock knew what he needed to do. Grabbing Jim’s hand, Spock shielded himself from the sudden maelstrom of Jim’s emotions. “I grieve with thee.”

Sniffling, Jim tried to discreetly wipe at his tears with the hand not clasped in Spock’s. “You know, Spock, you’re pretty good at this.”

Spock raised his eyebrow in question, making Jim give a watery laugh before he answered. “Comforting people. Bones usually just brings me booze and we get sloshed together while I cry on his shoulder. Which is fine, don’t get me wrong. But I kind of like this better.”

Jim squeeze his hand, punctuating his statement.

Spock held in a shiver as intense affection pierced through his shields, Jim’s regard for him coming through despite Spock’s mental defenses and Jim’s own sorrow. He allowed himself a moment to ensure his voice was steady when he next spoke. “Vulcans were spared the dubious benefits of alcohol. I am afraid I could not 'get sloshed' with you.”

Spock felt a warmth spread through him as Jim laughed once more, with more genuine humor. “You should tell Bones that, he’ll have something to say.”

“I am certain Doctor McCoy’s response would be as colorful and illogical as I’ve come to expect.”

Jim moved, his body much closer to Spock. There were less than one point four centimeters between the two of them, Spock able to feel the heat of Jim’s body, the almost electric promise of bodily contact. If he shifted just one point four centimeters, their thighs and arms would be touching. Spock found himself preoccupied with that scant measurement of space until his eyes focused on their still clasped hands. That, he felt, was a far more important point of contact. 

“Hey,” Jim muttered. “Isn’t this, like, really inappropriate for a Vulcan?”

He twitched his fingers as if to loosen their hold, but Spock did not wish for such a thing. He tightened his own fingers, keeping Jim’s within his grasp. “Yes, on Vulcan such an outwardly affectionate display would be quite scandalous.”

“Isn’t finding something scandalous illogical?” Jim’s voice was still soft, but there was now a teasing lilt to it.

“That is debatable and many factors must be taken into account. I imagine it would vary from individual to individual, be they human, Vulcan, or some other being.”

“What do you think? Scandalous or not scandalous?”

Jim turned their joined hands together and stroked his thumb over the back of Spock’s hand, causing Spock to heat, the capillaries in his face vasodilating. 

“I find I care not,” Spock responded. “I simply wish to hold your hand and comfort you.”

Spock could barely contain his response as Jim let out a light gasp before closing the one point four centimeters between them, his golden haired head coming to rest on Spock’s shoulder. “Mr. Spock, you’ve done both and you’ve done them damn well.”

Spock leaned as lightly as he could into Jim, allowing his cheek to press against the short, soft strands of Jim’s fair hair. “Jim, I am sorry for the emotional upset today’s events have caused you.”

“Thank you, Spock.”

“And should you wish to discuss this, or any other matters, further, I am at your service.”

“You’re too kind, Spock.”

“Jim.”

“Spock?”

“I cherish thee.”

Jim moved even closer, causing their bodies to press together, nearly overlapping. “You know, Spock, if you had told me this on any other day, I would’ve immediately jumped you. In a sexual fashion.”

“I would not have minded.”

Spock felt rather than heard Jim’s chuckles. “You just had to confess to me on the most emotionally exhausting day of my life, didn’t you? I’m too wrung out to take you to bed, it wouldn’t be half so good as you deserve. We can cuddle though, if you’d like. I’d like.”

“I found the moment opportune as we were already engaged in mutual emotional vulnerability. I also often find that you are an exception to my aversion to physical displays of affection and I would be amenable to cuddling. In our own quarters, of course, as the observation deck is a communal region of the ship and therefore unfit for such actions.”

Jim turned his head and Spock could feel the grin being pressed into his shoulder. “Why, Spock, you romantic sap.”

Jim stood and Spock stood with him, helping Jim to his feet as he stumbled minutely. Their hands remained clasped and Spock saw no reason to change this. As they moved towards their quarters, Jim smiled up at Spock, eyes soft and full of love and gratitude. A sharp contrast to the expressions Spock had seen earlier in the day. His handsome, expressive face wore joy as easily as it wore fury, though one seemed to cost him far more than the other. 

Spock vowed, determined and fierce, to do his utmost to keep his Jim smiling.


End file.
